


In The Valley

by successsionhbo



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Finally.., Getting Together, Holidays, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon, boris comes for a visit, theo is in therapy and has moved out of the city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/successsionhbo/pseuds/successsionhbo
Summary: Theo is 36 now and he lives in upstate New York. Christmas is around the corner and he asks Boris if he wants to stay a few days. He does, tender moments and frank discussions of Theo's sex life ensue.
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 23
Kudos: 264





	In The Valley

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is self indulgent and partially inspired by the triangular theory of love (passion, intimacy, commitment yk "intimacy without passion, passion without intimacy, and the terrifying possibility of both) and i also have lots of reasonings behind some of my decisions in this fic but it seemed stupid to explain it in the actual fic bc it disrupts the flow but plz know i have My Reasons. and yes there is sub theo if u really squint at this... also tw for google russian and apologies if anyway i have written theos therapy dog is inaccurate. anyway my tumblr is the same name and ty for reading !!

Boris is coming for the holidays. They were texting when he mentions that he has no plans and Theo invites him to stay for a few days. It’s not like he has any plans either. 

It will be the first time that he’s seeing Theo’s new home, despite him having moved out of the city six years ago. The last time they saw each other in person was two years ago, when Boris was in the city for some business and Theo didn’t need to do any work for his clients, so he stayed at Boris’s for a long weekend. They kept in contact, but it was rare that both of their schedules were free at the same time. Besides, Boris has never had a lot of work in upstate New York.

Theo looks around his house. It’s a small, one-floor, one-bedroom that was built in the early 1700s. The last owners had updated the kitchen and the bathroom but left everything else untouched, so the whole place was filled with rich hardwood floors and built in shelves and a fireplace made of worn red bricks next to shiny gunmetal appliances and a farmhouse style sink. It’s comfortable enough for him and his dog and he had no problem bringing in his own furniture. It feels enough like a home.

It was the property that really made Theo buy it. The backyard looks over a valley and there are mountains visible in the distance. In the fall, he can see everything change from green to orange and brown. And his closest neighbor is 10 minutes away. Solitude proves to be a drug all its own. It’s not that Theo particularly likes being alone all the time but he knows no other way to be. It’s comfortable because it’s familiar.

He had moved out of the city because he found out he flinches at loud noises and slamming doors. He didn’t realize it until he was starting to get sober but whenever something loud catches him off guard he curves into himself and for a split second he forgets where he is. He was constantly on edge with all of the construction and the subways and the people. But that wasn’t the only reason, of course.

The other reason was because of all the ghosts. It turns out that was another side effect of coming off the drugs, all of a sudden New York City was a graveyard filled with everything and everyone Theo’s ever lost. He had thought that maybe he could learn to live with it, walking the streets like a mausoleum, but after Hobie died, even the apartment became wracked with loss. He was just going to move to Brooklyn or somewhere in the outskirts of the city but he remembered his mom talking about how much she loved the farm she grew up on and how bright the moon looked there and he bought a place upstate instead.

He buys for collectors now, there’s no shortage of rich people with disposable income upstate and he’s lucky to have quite a few clients that keep him comfortable. He spends most of his money on indulgent groceries and dog treats and the car he learned how to drive out of necessity and not want. 

Christmas is in a week and Theo hadn’t bothered to get a tree or decorate because it was always just him and his therapy dog. Maybe there’s still time to get a tree, he knows Boris won’t care about a tree, but it would be nice to be a little festive. The last time he actually celebrated anything was when he was closer to 30 than 40. 

Theo goes to a tree farm twenty minutes away and finds that the only things left are those little charlie brown trees, which fitting he thinks and pays for one. He sets it up in the corner of the living room by the fireplace and digs out a box of old decorations from the closet and wraps some of Hobie’s old tree lights around it and sticks a star on top. He takes a step back to look at it and feels a pang of embarrassment about the effort he just went through, but he shoves the feeling away and hears his therapist voice in his head, its okay to want something and putting in effort is a good thing, Theo. He hates how reasonable she sounds and how her voice just pops into his head whenever he starts thinking anything he knows she’d disapprove of but validate. She might be right but he doesn’t have to like it.

The therapy started when he went to rehab. He had briefly been clean a couple times before, but it never stuck and it was Hobie who finally told him that enough was enough and that he needed to go get clean. Theo hated sitting and talking about his feelings to someone and he couldn’t exactly tell some shrink that he stole a priceless painting and killed someone, so what was he doing there anyway. It turns out that he had other things to deal with. He kept at it once he left rehab and now it’s been six years clean and six years in therapy and he was still resistant to both of those ideas but here he is. At least his therapist had given him his dog. He could admit that Blue genuinely helps him. She presses her weight down on him when he wakes up from nightmares and licks his fingers when he focuses too hard on a memory. She’s good to have around.

He leaves the tree up. Whatever, Boris will either be annoyingly happy he put it up or he will make fun of Theo relentlessly, he would have found reasons to do both anyway. Theo looks around the rest of the apartment- its relatively clean so he decides not to worry about any of it. The tree was more than enough. 

He hadn’t expected him to say yes when he invited Boris to stay over for the holidays. He normally makes excuses to not see him, busy with work, he’s leaving the country, he has personal business, so on and so forth. Theo doesn’t mind the excuses but it’s not like he invites him over every weekend, Boris still spends most of his time in Europe. He expected him to say “sorry, Potter, next time!” like he always does but instead he just said “yes, be there in a few days!” 

It’s Monday, Christmas is on Thursday, so Theo is hoping that Boris comes at a reasonable time in between the two days. He thinks he knows how the days will go once Boris gets here. They’ll watch shitty movies like they always do and they’ll walk Blue and Boris will cook something in his under used kitchen and then he’ll leave after a few days. Theo decides now that he’s more than okay with this, and he swears to himself he won’t be affected when he leaves, even though every time he feels a little.. Well he’s not sure how he feels. Lonely, maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boris comes on Wednesday night. A car rolls up Theo’s gravel driveway and he walks out of the passenger seat, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. Theo opens his front door and walks out onto his porch, leaning against one of the beams by the stairs, as Blue bounds out after him and goes straight up to Boris, her tail furiously wagging from side to side, over the moon to see a visitor.

“Ah! Potter, you have a dog! Hello, sweetheart, what a baby” Boris bent down to pet her, cooing a number of pet names as she bumps her head into his hand. “What’s her name?”

“Blue.”

Theo walks down from the porch and picks up the bag that Boris had dropped when Blue bounded over to him, and slings it over his shoulder.

“Hi Blue, hi baby Blue. You have been keeping my good friend company, yes? Good.”

Boris stands back up and throws an arm around Theo’s shoulder and leans into him.

“It has been too long! I love this place, Potter, is beautiful,” he motions to valley and the mountains in the distance, ”but a little cold, no?”

“Well, it’s December in upstate New York”

Boris waves his driver off, telling him something quick in Russian that Theo can’t pick up and they walk up onto the porch and into the house together, Blue rushing in after them. Theo hears the car peel out of his driveway as he closes the door behind them.

Theo drops Boris’s bag by the couch and turns into the kitchen.

“I was gonna make pasta, is that’s good with you. The closest place to eat is like a half hour away.” Theo says over his shoulder.

“A half hour?! This is far from the city life you were living, Potter.”

Theo nods. “I know, it took some adjusting to. But I like it.”

Boris is looking at him, his eyebrows slightly knotted together and his head tilted to the side. This meant he was analyzing Theo, which Theo hates but he lets him do now because otherwise he would just do it later.

“I like it too. This place looks like you.” Boris replies.

Theo’s confusion must have reached his face. “Old.” Boris explains.

“Oh fuck you! Speak for yourself, I think I look alright for 36, thank you very much.”

Boris laughs at him and pushes himself up on the counter opposite the stove.

“I am only kidding” he says between bouts of laughter, “You look handsome as always.”

Theo rolls his eyes and turns back around to the stove so he can pour the pasta into the boiling water. He is also hiding the color that has crept its way into his cheeks. Boris’s stupid fake compliments have had the same effect since they were kids.

“My flight was a disaster, I sat next to this man who kept trying to take both of the armrests and steal my leg room. Like just because I am a little short does not mean you get to take all my space, asshole.” Boris continued talking about how his trip was a disaster as he opens up every cabinet in the kitchen until he finds a pan and garlic and a small jar of olive oil. Theo watches as he minces the cloves and warms the pan, drizzling the oil into it so it coats the surface. It is a marvel, Theo thinks, that Boris can actually cook and that he feels confident enough in his ability to cook that he has decided to make Theo’s kitchen his own.

He is still talking about his flight when Theo drains the pasta and separates it into two bowls, Boris takes them once he’s done and pours the garlic and oil over them, and then showers them in sea salt and ground pepper. 

They eat on the couch with the TV on. Theo takes the opportunity to look at Boris for the first time since he got here. He, as always, is angular, sharp cheekbones and nose. He has a scar above his temple on the right side, but that was there the last time he saw him. He has a new one on the side of his neck that makes Theo’s stomach knot and his vision blur but he doesn’t ask. He has a new tattoo on the opposite side of his neck. It’s a small, delicate looking thing, but the dark ink stands out against his pale skin. Theo stops staring at his neck to find Boris staring at him. He smirks.

“You like it?”

Theo looks at the TV, still playing whatever it was that was on, and he feels Boris take his hand and press his fingers to the side of his neck.

It’s a crescent moon, thin and silvery on his skin. Boris runs Theo’s forefinger along it before he lets go, Theo’s hand falling back to his lap.

“I got it a few months ago, feeling very poetic, and as soon as I see Miriam she says it looks like a coffee stain,” he laughs.

Theo sits and listens and pretends like his heart isn’t trying to find a way out of his body and into Boris’s dish of pasta. It was the most he’s been touched since the last time he saw Boris. He tries not to think about his unintentional (yet totally on purpose) celibacy. It’s been six years. He doesn’t think about it.

“It’s nice,” he manages.

Boris snorts and gets up grabbing Theo’s dish and walks to the sink to start washing them. Theo slowly follows, grabbing a towel so he can dry. They clean up quietly with Boris occasionally laughing at the Seinfeld rerun thats on. Once they’re done Theo gets the kettle out and fills it with water. 

Theo boils water and sets two mugs on the counter, pouring the tea into both of them as Boris sits on the opposite counter, his feet dangling as he tells Theo about an art gallery that “you would have loved, Potter, but the people that go to these things-ugh! All rich people who only care about spending money and not about the art at all.”

“You were at the gallery,” Theo points out.

“Ha ha, Theo. I was there to appreciate the art.”

He jumps down from the counter accepting the mug that Theo offered him and then went to the side door in the kitchen and opened it for Theo, like he had done it a thousand times and this wasn’t the first time he was in the house. Theo walked outside into the freezing December night and Boris followed him.

They sit down on the small patio in Theo’s backyard. Theo is holding his mug loosely in his hands and Boris is clutching his between both of his hands, holding it close to his chest. Theo looks over at him and takes note of the shade of pink his ears and nose has gotten and he wordlessly gets up, feeling Boris watching him, and goes back in the house, re emerging a minute later with a large, fluffy blanket. He drapes it over Boris’s back and sits back down next to him. He looks up at the sky.

He understands now why his mom liked her farm so much. He can see the moon’s every detail from here and all the stars remind him of Vegas. Vegas and his mom.

Theo looks back at Boris, who has been staring at him since he came back out of the house. 

“You are cold,” Boris tells him. He is, but he’s used to it and he tells Boris that. 

It was now Boris who gets up, walks the two feet that separates them and sits back down, draping the large blanket over both of their shoulders. Theo holds his breath, counts to three, exhales. He feels warmer now, but he thinks it has more to do with Boris pressing the length of his arm against Theo’s arm and the length of his leg against Theo’s leg than it has to do with the blanket. Theo is staring at Boris again. Up close he can note the small differences in his appearance since the last time he saw him. He looks older, but better. Boris has faint smile lines on the tops of his cheeks, there’s a streak of grey in his hair, the bags under his eyes are grey instead of purple, and his face looks a little fuller since the last time he saw him. He knew that Boris had been getting clean at the time, but now he can see it in his face. 

Theo is struck by the sudden longing to rest his head on Boris’s shoulder. If he was younger he would have denied the feeling but now he just lets it sit in his mind, ignoring the sharp stab of don’t and replacing it with maybe. He knows Boris will let him, and maybe it’s the stars that are reminding him of Vegas and maybe just for one night he’d like to be a kid again, and he leans his head on Boris’s shoulder. Much to Theo’s relief the world does not explode in a fiery blast, it instead, shrinks. The whole world is a valley lit by the moon in Theo’s backyard and there are only two people in it. Boris presses his cheek against the top of Theo’s head and his knuckles to the ones Theo has wrapped around his mug. They both feel warm.

They go inside after a while, limbs stiff from sitting on the stone patio in the cold. It’s late and he’s tired and Boris is tired from his flight, so he goes to his room and pulls off his clothes. It almost feels weird to just go to bed without drinking or doing drugs when Boris is here. He remembers thinking that last time, too, when Boris had only been kind-of clean for a few months. He still smokes weed, Theo knew, but he never saw or heard of him taken anything else for the past two years and he tends to be radically honest about his addiction. It feels weird when he’s on his own, too, but it seems like they had created a ritual for whenever they saw each other and now they were breaking it. Boris walks into his room, tearing him from his thoughts.

“You know you only have one bed, right? If you wanted to snuggle you could have just said so.” he says from the doorway

Theo does, in fact, know that he only has one bed. He also knows that he’s blushing and he wants to tell Boris to fuck off and he also wants to be confident enough to tease Boris back and say come snuggle but he isn’t and he can’t, so he says nothing. Besides, he just assumed someone would take the couch. He offers to, Boris had a long flight.

“No, is okay. Not like we have not shared before.” he replies with a smile as he sheds his own clothes across Theo’s floor and climbs into bed with him.

It’s a queen-sized bed, one that was insanely expensive but very worth it. Theo’s sheets are forest green and made of cotton soft enough to make you want to run your hands over it again and again. His comforter is feather down and is covered in a plush dusty pink-colored fabric. Basically, it feels like a cloud and it’s very expensive and as soon as Boris lays down he burrows into the bed and sighs.

“Ah, nevermind, Potter. You can go sleep on the couch, I want to stretch out on this thing. Seriously I feel like I am floating.” 

“You look like a cat,” Theo tells him, as Boris stretches out on his bed and then ducks his head under the cover.

“Come here, Theo, it’s warmer,” he says, holding up the thick blanket so Theo will sink under it. 

He obediently goes under and looks at Boris, who has his eyes closed, cheek pressed to a pillow. Theo lets himself look lower. It’s been years since he’s seen more than his neck and seeing his bare chest and his arms makes something in his lungs stop working. Boris has scars. Lots of them, which he knew but it’s different up close. Theo does and doesn’t want to know how they all got there. He has tattoos too, a few of them look like he would have gotten them in the back of someone’s shitty apartment and others look like they must have taken hours. Theo smiles at the small, but incredibly detailed portrait of a dog that looks a hell of a lot like Popchyk. There’s a quote on his forearm in Russian so he can’t read it and there’s another one on his chest next to an abstract piece made up of thick black lines that look like brushstrokes. Theo also notices the sinew-y muscles that cover Boris’s body. He was still angular, but now he looks stronger, healthier. He feels his eyelids getting heavier and lifts his head up toward his pillow, to find Boris staring at him, too. He always manages to see what Theo is trying to hide.

Boris meets his eye briefly and then drags his gaze down Theo’s body. Theo immediately feels insecure, he was still so skinny, had never learned how to eat enough to keep weight on him. He wraps his arms around his body, trying to appear casual and he ignores the blush he feels deep in his chest and on his ears and on his cheeks. He squirms a little under his gaze like somehow his own movements will knock Boris’s staring off and he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. As if Boris is completely oblivious to how much his staring is affecting Theo he also reaches out a places a hand on his neck and gently drags his head over to Theo’s and presses their foreheads together. Blue jumps up onto the bed and settles between them on top of the covers. This is nice, Theo thinks, and he lets the thought live for a few minutes, right there with Boris’s slow breaths and Blue’s warm body. He lets his shoulders relax, lets his arm release their grip from around his body and falls asleep. His last thought before nodding off is maybe the ritual has nothing to do with the drugs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he wakes up Boris and Blue are missing and for a disorienting moment he thinks he might have dreamt the past six years and he was really in his old apartment, but he feels the warm spot on the bed from where Boris was sleeping.

“Boris?” he grumbles, voice scratchy with sleep.

No response.

Theo walks out of the bedroom, wrapping a robe around himself, and takes a look around his home, noticing almost immediately that his dog and her leash are both gone. Relieved that he is not imagining things, he goes back to lay down.

He was also relieved that Boris is gone, because that makes that fact that he’s hard a little less mortifying. But not really. His plan had been to hop in the shower and take care of it, but now that he knows the house is empty for at least a little while taking care of it from the comfort of his own bed is way more appealing.

He lets the robe fall from his shoulders as he reaches down and wraps a hand around himself, eyes closing. He moves his hand up and down, experimentally, trying to focus on the sensation and not think of anything in particular. Despite his efforts, his mind helpfully supplied images of Boris staring at him, the sensation of his hand on Theo’s neck, and how his clothes smelled the night before when Theo leaned his head on his shoulder. His breathing stutters as his hand speeds up. His back arches as he comes, panting. He lays there as he catches his breath and finally he opens his eyes again. Boris is leaning against the doorframe.

Fuck.

Theo is still naked and his breath is still erratic and Boris is just standing there not saying anything. How did he not hear him come in? He had only been laying down for 10 minutes. Say something, he thinks to himself.

“I, uh, um I wa-,” what the fuck do are you supposed to say when your best friend catches you masturbating? He suddenly feels anger at Boris for watching.

“Couldn’t of said something?” he asks, pulling the sheet around himself.

“I… I was just coming to wake you up after our walk, did not realize I was interrupting, but I just- “ Theo realizes that Boris is nervous, despite the smirk on his lips. That he’s not saying something that he wants to, which in turn makes Theo nervous, in addition to his debilitating mortification. He tries to make eye contact with Theo, but Theo turns his head away so quickly something might have snapped. 

“Hmm. Reminds me. Of when we used to.”

They had never been sober when they used to. At least Theo hadn’t. And they were just teenagers, just young people fooling around, just adults. It didn’t mean anything. They were convenient. All things that Theo has told himself. But they were actual adults now and last time Theo had just shook his head no and Boris let it go, and Theo pretended like that “no” didn’t catch in his throat and burn him raw. 

“Sorry,” Boris says, but he isn’t because he’s still staring and Theo just shakes his head and says “it’s okay” because it is and he’ll just pretend that it doesn’t matter, which he guesses is better than pretending that it didn’t happen at all. 

“I’ll let you shower,” Boris looks at him one last time and laughs and all the tension bleeds out of the room as Theo joins in.

Stupid, he thinks, as he feels himself burning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He takes a shower cold enough to make him shiver but it feels better than the embarrassment. Theo wasn’t sure what was worse: the fact that Boris saw him in the most vulnerable position he could think of or that he wished Boris would have laid down with him. He doesn’t think about it long enough to give himself a panic attack like he normally did when he acknowledged his attraction to Boris.

Boris knocks on the door, shouting “if you do not hurry up I am going to come in there and make you wash my hair for me!”, so Theo shuts off the water.

He throws on a button up and then puts on a sweater after that for good measure. He’s pretty sure he would not be able to take Boris’s staring for a while after what happened this morning. He even puts on a thick pair of socks because if he catches him staring at his bare ankle he might melt.

Boris, of course, immediately catches on to what he’s doing and laughs at him when he emerges into the kitchen.

“Cold?”

“Fuck off.”

Boris has already made breakfast, which consist of pancakes and bananas but not banana pancakes because “the texture is disgusting, Theo, cannot understand how people eat them.” They don’t bother with Theo’s small kitchen table or eating on the couch and just sit on the kitchen counter, cross legged, like they did when they were kids. Boris is breaking off every other part of the banana he’s holding and handing it to Theo, while he eats his pancakes with his hands, dipping pieces into maple syrup, instead of just using a fork.

“B, that’s disgusting,” Theo says, looking at the syrup dripping down Boris’s finger.

“What is disgusting about it?” he asks, licking the syrup off, “stop being so stuffy. Live a little.”  
He picks up the bottle of syrup and pours some over Theo’s plate, dripping everywhere on Theo’s pants and socks and all over the counter. Theo looks at him with a glare that could be described as murderous. Theo grabs a piece of banana, reaches over, and smashes it into Boris’s hair.

“I hope you do not like those clothes, Potter,” Boris says as he gets up and leans over, wrestling Theo closer as he starts pouring syrup all over him as Theo unsuccessfully tries to smear more banana on him. 

“I just got out of the shower,” Theo yells from under Boris’s arm, still trying to pull away as the syrup drips over his glasses. 

“Should have thought of that before you started this”

“You started this!”

Boris shrugs at this and lets go, panting and laughing at the way Theo’s hair has plastered itself to his skull. They both sink to the floor looking at the syrup on the counter and the smashed banana on the floor that Boris had stepped in.

“We should not waste food like this,” Boris says, looking around at the mess, his mouth slightly downturned.

“It’s okay. We can buy more now.”

Theo knows that no matter how much money Boris seems to make he still worries about everyone having enough food. It’s the one thing Theo feels like he can make Boris feel better about, like if he reminds him there's always more, his anxiety about it will fade.

“Hey Theo?”

“Yeah?”

Boris turns his head and smiles at him.

“Happy Christmas”

“Merry Christmas, Boris”

~~~~~~~~~

They clean up together, wiping down the counter and the floor and dumping the dishes in the sink. Theo carefully takes off his clothes and throws them into the washing machine. Boris shoves his head under the kitchen faucet and just rinses the leftover banana out of his hair in the kitchen and Theo takes another shower. 

They take Blue for a walk, its freezing cold and Boris somehow looks even more pale and Theo swears feels his knuckles freezing. Blue starts running around in circles, and picking up her paws, signaling to Theo that it really was too cold to be out right now. Boris scoops her up and tucks her into his coat and carries her back to the house, despite the fact that she was a little too big to be held like that.

They get back to the house out of breath from the cold and Boris drops onto the couch still clutching Blue, who looks more than pleased to be used as a living heating pad. Boris smushes his face into her fur.

“Is it always this cold? How do you deal with this?”

“It’s not that bad most of the time, really”

“Next year we go somewhere warm for the holidays, Potter, okay?”

Theo’s mind takes a pit stop to process the words ‘next year’ and ‘we’ and says “okay”

The sun is starting to set outside and the room is coated with a hazy orange light. Theo sits down across the couch from Boris and Blue, pulling a blanket over his shoulders. The room is a safe kind of quiet, not the kind that comes before someone starts yelling or when someone is stewing in their anger. It’s also not the oppressive and heavy silence that Theo is so familiar with, the kind that happens when you’re alone all day and you dread the sun going down. This quiet felt soft and warm and Theo wanted to live in it forever. He wrapped his hand around Boris’s ankle and rubs his thumb back and forth on the skin, eyes closed, as he rests his head on the back of the couch. He breathes deeply, feeling his lungs expand and contract, and he feels Boris breathe near his cheek, closer than expected. Boris has his hand almost cupping Theo’s jaw and Theo can feel the warmth radiating off of it. He said no last time, he told himself over and over no more and we’re not kids anymore but he was weak and Boris was always there when Theo let his guard down. Boris is always gentle, he reminds himself.

“Can I?” he asks, his voice so soft it’s almost not there at all.

Theo nods and leans into Boris’s palm. Boris touches his lips and then kisses him. It’s generous to call it a kiss, really. It’s more Boris touching his lips to Theo’s. For a while they don’t move but then Theo can feel his pulse in his bottom lip and he finally applies a soft pressure to their kiss. It’s unhurried and chaste and Boris’s hand never leaves Theo’s face and Theo sighs into it. Boris kisses him like it’s all he’s ever wants, no implication of something more and no distractions. His focus is on Theo’s lips.

Theo pulls away to breathe and Boris nudges him with his nose until Theo opens his eyes. Boris smiles at him, his lips pink and his hair falling in curls around his face. He feels his heart physically clench and his stomach drop to his toes and he thinks maybe it would be easier to feel like this when they were younger and everything he did seemed to have no consequences. He remembers when they were just kids and something wild and desperate made him want to cling to Boris even though it also made him want to drown. And then in Amsterdam it felt like his heart was trying to claw out of his chest and he was going to float away. Now without the alcoholic haze and vicodin high it just feels like he doesn’t want to be alone which scares Theo more than anything. The only time he felt safe was when he was alone because he was so used to being that way and here was Boris dusting off the part of Theo that made him want, bruisingly so, and calling it home.

Boris kisses his forehead and his eyelids and Theo lets him because it feels nice and he wants Boris closer but he doesn’t know how to ask. He doesn’t need to anyway because Boris just pulls his head into his lap and throws a blanket over the both of them and flicks the TV on. It’s Christmas, which of course means Its A Wonderful Life is on every other channel, and Boris happily hums at the familiar movie. Theo however drags the blanket over his eyes, remembering the last time they watched this movie together. The hazy bits of memory floating behind his eyes: Boris pressing his chest down, the feeling of fingers in his hair, the sensation of his back stretching into an arch. He knows his breathing must have fallen slightly out of rhythm when he feels Blue lay down on his stomach and it brings him back to the now.

Boris has his fingers resting on Theo’s forehead as he pulls the blanket back down from over Theo’s face and just looks at him, a half smile on his lips.

“You do not like our movie anymore, Potter?”

“I like it fine,” Theo answers, which is true, but it also makes him feel weirdly exposed even though that time was probably the only one that Theo remembers better than Boris. 

“Then watch,” he instructs. Neither of them look away. It feels like a dare and Theo so wants to take it but he remembers he doesn’t have an excuse for this anymore that he no longer knows what it means because Boris is dead sober too. It feels too much like an indulgence, like something he can’t, shouldn’t, have. It feels too much. He knows Boris is going to lean down so he says:

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Boris asks, his eyebrows pushing together, “must get lonely up here, no?”

“I- its okay, really. I don’t need-”

Boris lifts an eyebrow up at him, “you do not need it? That seems like a lie, Potter. How long has it been, huh?”

Theo is mortified by the question because he is hyper aware of how long it’s been and he doesn’t need anyone else knowing. The last person he was in bed with was looking down at him.

“Theo?”

He rolls his eyes, “six.”

“Six months?”

Theo just stares at him until he understands.

“Years? Jesus, Potter. ”

“I just. I don’t need it. Really.”

“You don’t like it? But you used to. And this morning…”

“Don’t remind me,” Theo says bringing his face to his hands as he sits up to face Boris, “look it’s just easier like this.”

“I am offering. Is that not easy?”

Theo thinks it’s too fucking easy. What has he ever done for it? He can’t have it, he can’t.

“I can’t.”

“Theo, baby, you already have. Many times.”

“Why do you even let me, Boris? You don’t have to take care of me anymore,” he sighs, “saying what I want, it just- it hurts too much.”

It wasn’t what he intended to say, but it was more honest. He sees Boris’s face twist and he goes to say something and stops himself, like he is trying to find the words. Waiting for him to answer feels like pulling the wheel.

A moment passes.

“God, Theo, you do not think it hurts me too? You think any of this is easy for me? I do not visit because I know I will want to touch you and last time, last time you just shook your head at me. Do you know how much that hurt? And I knew it was because you were too sober to let me, which made it hurt more. Why do you deny yourself, Theo? I have tried for so many years to understand because I hated myself too- for a long time I would not let myself look at another man, would not let myself think of how I felt about you- but, but. No matter how many people I fuck or try to love or make a home with, you are the only one I can think of. But I can not have you,” he sighs. Theo is entirely focusing on not having his chest cavity collapse. “And anyway you let me in your life is okay, I should not be greedy. But it hurts, deep in my bones. I wish I could love you in every way.”

Theo tries to slow his heartbeat and his breathing but it’s completely impossible so he just takes a shaky breath as Blue leaps up and presses her weight into his lap once again, licking his hand.

“I’m trying, Boris. To- to better to myself.” Another breath. “Most days I can barely admit to myself that I. That I-” He looks up sighing, frustrated with himself by his inability to say something they both already know, have known, for a long time. He hears his own voice echo in his head, which was, of course, I love you. He tries to make Boris understand, “I only ever wanted to hurt myself.”

Boris just looks at him, eyes watery.

“I know, malysh, I know too well. I am just asking if we are done hurting each other. Let me in. I promise I will stay, you will not lose me too.”

Theo thinks of all the times Boris must have saved his life, of how he makes himself at home wherever Theo is. Theo thinks of how his heart pounds away in his chest when Boris touches him, how he sleeps better knowing that he’s on the other side of the bed, how he feels something dangerously close to happy when he makes Boris laugh. He thinks of all the time he spent trying to die. And the past six years he spent alone, trying to get to a version of a person who can exist without feeling guilt and hate over everything they are. He hears his therapist even now, you don’t have to punish yourself for surviving, and he feels his own eyes gather tears at the edges. 

He bizarrely feels the need to tell Boris that he is attempting to help himself.

“I have a therapist…” he says and then winces, “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

Boris looks shocked.

“I think this is the only time you’ve been speechless” Theo mutters to himself.

“I can think of another time, not that long ago…” he smiles. Teasing, even now, but there’s less edge to this. Theo still blushes.

“I should have locked the door...”

“You never told me. That you have one.”

Theo shrugs and looks down at Blue who has fallen asleep in his lap. He pets her fur and Boris reaches out and wraps his fingers around Theo’s wrist.

“I’m sorry I never learned how to love. I don’t think I do it right,” Theo blurts out. He feels relieved having said it, there’s always been something about love on the tip of his tongue when Boris is around. It feels good to finally say it out loud, despite the words cutting his mouth like thorns.

Theo continues to pick at Blue’s fur just to do something with his hands, he feels the tears track down his face, which is burning from embarrassment and shame, and he refuses to look up at Boris. Shouldn’t an adult know these things, he asks himself, how to just get up and not have to work so hard to not hate themselves? Not feel the need to drown out everything with drugs and alcohol for more than a decade? 

Boris is crying now too so Theo doesn’t feel like such an idiot anymore and he slips off the couch and kneels on the carpet next to Theo so he can look up at him and look him in the eyes. He reaches up and puts a hand on his cheek.

“Theo, I love you. Please do not apologize, we can figure it out together.”

Theo nods his head and Blue gets up once she sees Boris moving. He sits down next to Theo and pulls him into a hug, and holds him to his chest as he cries, Boris’s own tears falling from the corners of his eyes. They lay like that for a while, letting the exhaustion that comes from crying wash over them. It almost feels like a hangover. Dehydrated, head pounding, so Boris takes care of it the same way. He urges Theo up and walks him to the bathroom as he turns on the faucet, letting the water get warm. A shower will do them both good. 

“Is okay if I…?” Boris trails off.

Theo looks at him, eyes slightly unfocused, and nods. It’s just him, it’s just Boris, nothing new.

“It’s okay, Boris”

He pulls Theo’s glasses off and tugs this sweater up over his head and then helps him out of his pants and underwear. Boris quickly pulls off his clothes as well and drops them on the floor next to Theo’s. They stand in the shower together, letting the water run over them. Theo takes a step closer and leans down to put his head on Boris and Boris wraps his arms around him. Theo listens to Boris’s heartbeat, letting it calm him. He reaches behind Boris and grabs the shampoo and Boris watches him, one eyebrow arched, as he pours some of the gel in his hands and cards his fingers through Boris’s hair. He slowly works the gel into a lather and rubs his fingertips into Boris’s scalp, he draws small circles with his thumbs by his temples. Boris sighs and pulls Theo closer, pressing his face to Theo’s neck. 

Theo feels like he is watching them from outside his body. Like there is no way he could be touching Boris without feeling like he needs to repent just for being alive. But he doesn’t. Maybe it’s because he’s too tired to feel anything except how warm Boris feels and how soft his hair is, but he lets himself feel it.

“It is cause you are sober now.”

It was a statement, not a question. Theo had to think for a second about what he was talking about before he realize Boris was talking about his (lack of) sex life. Of course he was right.

“Yes...Everything is just-it’s too much now,” Theo trails off his voice getting softer, “I’ve only just started dealing with my life and- sex… it’s not important. Everything seems like too much now.”

“Is it unimportant to you or are you scared of it now? Does it mean too much?”

Theo’s hands still and he tries not to wince at the casual way Boris just knows him and makes him look at himself. Boris rinses his hair and leans up to press a kiss to the corner or Theo’s neck and shoulder, “just something you should think about it.”

He turns the shower off and grabs towels for the both of them. They don’t bother with pajamas, even though Theo hesitates by the drawer of his dresser but ultimately just crawls under the covers naked. Boris fits himself into Theo’s side and kisses his neck, there is no heat behind it, no eagerness for more. It feels more like he is luxuriating in the fact that Theo is letting him. He hums against his skin.

“Can I ask you a question Potter?”

“Sure”

“Have you ever...with another man?”

Theo doesn’t say anything, debating in his head whether or not he can say it out loud, how real can he make it without sliding backwards. He had skirted around it in his own head for so long thinking about it was borderline disorienting . It’s just Boris, just tell him. He does. 

“Before I got clean I- I tried to once. I, uhm, I went back to this guy’s apartment. But, but as soon as he started to touch me, I just. I don’t know, I freaked out and I left. I got so high Hobie had to pull me into the shower to. To wake me up,” Theo closes his eyes and notices his hands shaking and Boris grabs them, ”He dropped me off at rehab a couple days after that. Told me he wanted to see me clean while he was still alive.”

Theo knows he’s holding onto Boris’s hand a little too hard but he can’t get himself to stop. Being with Boris somehow always feels like digging up everything he wants to hide from the world and handing him a box with all of it inside.

“I wish I had known him better. He was not perfect, but better to you then your real father was.”

“Yeah…me too.”

There’s a moment when no one talks. Theo hears the wind blowing outside, the creak of branches and he sees the snow falling outside the window. He smells his shampoo on Boris’s hair. Theo can tell Boris wants to know more and he doubts he will be able to tell him everything in the morning so he nudges him slightly to get him to ask.

“After me. Who else was there? Anyone important?”

“Not really. I mean there was Pippa, but that was… I don’t know what that was, really, but it wasn’t what I thought it was. And there was Kitsy obviously, but I was only with her because it seemed right. There was Carol but I barely remember her...I was high most of the time. And when I was still in school there was Julie.”

“Julie, huh? What, did you meet in class or something?”

“No she was like 28- I think. She had bought me alcohol and we just wound up sleeping together a few times.”

Boris props himself up on his elbow and looks at Theo, “And how old were you at this time?”

“I think I was like 16.”

“Jesus, Theo. 16?”

Theo knew it wasn’t good. It took him forever to realize that, and he still felt wildly insecure in talking about his sex life because he was aware of how fucking pathetic it sounds and how vulnerable it makes him to anyone he tells. He doesn’t like talking about it, not now at least. But Boris is propped up on an elbow and looking at him like he always does when Theo tells him about his decade worth of bad decisions. Protective.

“Have you ever had sex that you remembered and actually enjoyed?”

The answer was “you” but Theo can’t say it so he just stares at Boris, his whole body tense, hoping he’ll understand and he does because Theo watches his gaze go from protective to soft with a flare of possessiveness hidden in the corners and it makes Theo’s skin crawl and he has to look away. Theo sinks lower in the bed so Boris is now resting his chin on Theo’s head and he has his arms wrapped around him, one rubbing circles between his shoulder blades and the other is resting on his neck. 

“As long as I am on the Planet of Earth, Theo, you can have me,” he murmurs into Theo’s hair.

“I’ll make sure the fridge is full whenever you come home,” Theo whispers into Boris’s chest and kisses the hollow of his throat. This was easier than the other word, the one that felt like cotton was stuffed between his lips and made his blood rush from his head. 

Theo wants to sleep but he also wants to be in the feeling of Boris’s arms around him a little longer. He doesn’t know how he will feel in the morning. Before, when there were drugs and drinks and being endlessly fucked up, whenever they woke up in the same bed together Theo ran. He left and shoved any memory of it down deep in his skull never to be thought of again. He doesn’t know what he’ll do now, even though they hadn’t done anything but kiss, this felt more permanent. He hopes he will wake up and feel relieved, and not terrified, that Boris is there. He wants to feel like that. But this is also now and tomorrow will be tomorrow and he can only control right now. There was his therapist again, haunting him in his own brain. He hated it every time something she said to him came back and proved itself useful. He’s not sure if wallowing is easier than progress but it sure fit his cynicism way better.

“Thinking very loud, Theo,” Boris mumbles against his head.

“I want you to be here tomorrow. Right now, I want you to be here tomorrow. Not just in the house, or in the bed, but ...here with me. I need to tell you because I don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow.”

Practicing honesty is the hardest thing Theo has ever done so he seizes every opportunity he can to tell the truth. Most of the time it’s to himself, but Boris is here and what have they not shared?

Theo feels Boris’s sharp intake of air, his ribs suddenly expanded and pressing into him.

“Okay. I want to be here too. I am glad you told me.”

~~~

When Theo wakes up Boris’s hand is wrapped around his wrist, long fingers resting on the soft inside like he was feeling the pulse there. Sunlight filters through the curtains and casts a warm sheen onto the bed. It made Boris’s hair glow, the curls falling over his face and neck, the light softens the lines of his body, morphing sharp angles into curves. Boris’s leg is hooked over Theo’s waist, holding him there, close enough so that Theo can feel all the heat rolling off of him. Theo lifts a hand and traces the line of his jaw with the pad of his finger. Boris hums and turns his face into Theo’s palm, smirking. 

“Do not mean to make you so nervous.” 

Theo knits his eyebrows together but Boris just taps his wrist. Theo had not realized the jackhammer beat his heart has taken up and tries to slip his wrist out of Boris’s grip, but he just tightens his fingers.

“No. Let me feel.”

Theo really has no choice but to lie there and let Boris know every stutter and rush of his heartbeat. Boris doesn’t move for a while but eventually he just lifts his hand from Theo’s wrist and holds the back of his head instead, leaning forward even more into his space.

“Are you going to run as soon as I let you go? Is that why you are so nervous?”

“No. I-,” Theo tries to sigh but he just winds up breathing in the smell of the body next to him, “What now, Boris?”

“Do you still want me here, now, this morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I will stay.”

Theo pulls back to look at Boris, trying to process and think about what he’s saying. Boris will stay. He said he’d stay yesterday too. Theo will let him stay, wants him to. This was easy, good, it makes Theo’s entire chest ache with how much he wants Boris to stay, he’s been ignoring and denying it for so long, the want hurts. Something has to go wrong now. It has to, it always does. That’s when the panic sets in.

Theo’s breath comes in short bursts and he feels buzzing under his fingertips. He feels Boris’s hands somewhere on his body, the only warmth he feels after suddenly being doused in chills. He feels Blue’s nose, nudging him and he feels her drop his bottle of meds on the comforter and Boris knows before Theo even attempts to tell him and he presses a pill into Theos hands and grabs water from the nightstand. It takes a few minutes but Theo feels his air come back into his lungs and warmth come back into his body.

“I mean- I can also leave…” Boris says, obviously trying to hide his own hesitation, his voice tight.

“If you stay, won’t something else just go wrong. Won’t something horrible happen, B? It always does, I know I sound crazy but, but that’s what always happens, isn’t it?” Theo’s voice grows scratchy and raw his words rushed together, and he thinks, he wants so badly to be wrong, to have anyone tell him that things can go right now, that he can have-

“Potter, baby, no. The only thing that will happen is that I will stay. No big storm that knocks the house down, no bullets raining down from the sky, no sickness that will take me from you. I told you, you can have this. I want to stay.”

Theo stares at a scar by Boris’s collarbone, he memorizes the shape of it, the color, how long it is. He inhales, exhales, and counts to ten in english, then spanish and russian. He can tell Boris to stay.

“...As long as you’re on the Planet of Earth?”

Boris looks at him sheepishly. “I need this too, you know? I wake up wondering if you are okay.” Theo looks at him, “You’re the one with the... dangerous career.”

“Maybe, but you have always drawn torture like a magnet draws metal,” Boris pauses, “you would do it on purpose, sometimes.”

“I know,” Theo breathes out “Don’t you need your stuff? Are you sure you want to stay here?” despite all of Boris’s affirmations it was still hard to understand that he didn’t have to be alone.

“I am staying. And I can just buy what I cannot take from you. We can go back to my apartment whenever, Miriam is running things for a little while anyway. No rush.”

“So you’re staying?”

“Jesus Christ, Potter ask me one more time.”

“I might.”

Boris smiles and Theo’s world fractures and divides into pieces that are made up of that smile. His teeth. The color of his lips. The small wrinkles on the tops of his cheeks. The shine in his dark eyes, lively and looking straight at him. Oh God, he’s actually staying. Theo leans forward.

Boris catches his lips in his own and curls towards Theo, his hands framing Theo’s face.

Theo pulls back, “Tea?”

“Always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

They sit on the couch, both holding mugs close to their chests. Theo remembers doing this as kids, on the mornings after drinking all night. Boris still has leather bands around his wrist, but these ones are nicer, don’t fringe around the edges. His nails are still painted, dark blue and chipped. And his hair is still flying out wildly in curls, but it’s longer now and the streak of gray falls in his face and curls under his chin. It’s almost like no time has passed at all.

Theo had been thinking about this for sometime. Not Boris, now, on the couch next to him, but both of them as kids, walking around Vegas, reckless and hellbent on running away from everything. It’s hard to imagine that Theo got out of there with his own life and Boris got out without someone taking his. He’s been wondering for some time...

“Do you ever wonder, if- if you had to take care of us when we were kids, if you would do a good job?” he asks Boris. He feels silly for asking, but he’s been thinking about it for too long not to say something, “I don’t think I would be able to take care of us.”

Boris considers this and pushes a strand of hair behind his ear, and Theo looks at his many earrings while he waits for his response.

“I think… I think that the fact that you have been wondering this...it already makes you better than anyone we had back then,” he removes one of his hands from his mug and holds Theo’s chin with it, “But you do not need to take care of us as children, Theo. You need to look out for yourself now. You do this and the child that you were- he will feel safe then.” He smiles, “I will too.”

Boris places his own mug on the floor beside the couch and tugs Theo’s away from him and puts that down too and he leans back up and presses his mouth to Theo’s. He slowly pushes him down so he’s laying on the couch on top of Theo. “Is okay?” he whispers against Theo’s lips. He nods, “Yeah, good for right now.” Boris goes back to kissing him, but keeps his hands above Theo’s waist, running his fingers up and down his side. Theo stops suddenly and sits up, and Boris rushes off of him, mouth open to apologize but Theo is already saying something.

“I forgot to give you your Christmas present yesterday. I just remembered.”

Boris felt his pulse slow down and he sinks back down into the couch, “Fuck, Theo please do not do that again, I think you took a year off my life.”

Theo laughs and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth and gets up, ”Sorry. I’ll add to it eventually,” and he goes to grab his present from his room. Theo spends about five minutes staring at the box before shutting it and definitively deciding that this is what he wants to do.

When he comes back Boris is laying down on the couch and Theo sits down on the floor next to him and places the box on his chest. Boris sits up and opens the box, revealing a pair of emerald earrings.

“These were your mom’s,” he says, holding one up, his mouth slightly open as he stares at the stones.

“Yeah.. well, they were, but I had a couple of the stones reset and put in this,” he says holding up his hand to show Boris the ring on his hand. It’s a simple enough piece of jewelry, a white gold band with two emeralds set in the center. “After Kitsey I… I didn’t want to just let them sit on my shelf forever and I had no one to give them to so I went to a jeweler. But I only took two of the emeralds. I didn’t want to change them too much.”

Boris runs a finger over the cascading stones, almost breathless.

“You don’t have to wear them or anything, I just. I don’t know, I need someone to keep them safe.”

Boris is already taking out the studs he has in and replacing them with the earrings. “I can do both.”

“You don’t have to,” Theo whispers.

“I am going to, lyubov moya, you cannot stop me.”

Boris pulls Theo up so he is sitting on the couch and he leans forward to kiss him and if he’s slightly rougher than normal Theo doesn’t mention it. He also doesn’t mention Boris’s hand on his neck or his thumb resting on his throat or the fact that all of these things makes his heartbeat just a little too fast.

“I got you something too. Is outside,” Boris says, voice rough.

“Okay.”

“Come on,” Boris gets up and Theo follows him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Theo throws on his shoes and a coat and walks outside after Boris and towards a pine tree in Theo’s backyard. It was Theo’s favorite place in his backyard, the smell of pine reminded him of the candles his mom used to light in their apartment. Boris stops at the base of the tree and Theo sees a small metal and stone plaque resting at the foot of the tree.

“I know you do not have anywhere to be with her. But maybe if you could be outside with her… maybe you can at least talk to her. And I remember you telling me about the candles she lit in your apartment.”

Theo was listening but he was bending down to read the plaque his eyes filling with tears. In memory of Audrey Decker. 

“Boris,” Theo looks up at him and Boris kneels down next to him, “Boris...I-”

“Is okay? She would like?”

“Yes, yes Boris. Thank you.”

Theo holds Boris’s face between his hands and kisses him before he pulls him into a hug. Boris lets himself be held for as long as Theo needs to hold him and by the time he lets go they’re both frozen and Theo is shivering so Boris just grabs his hand and pulls him back inside.

Theo goes willingly and lets himself be led all the way back into their bedroom and Boris just sits Theo down and tells him to put on warmer clothes because his are wet from the snow and he goes to make hot chocolate. Theo walks back out to the kitchen and accepts his mug from Boris. Theo tries to sort out how he feels and watches the light catch on the earrings that he gave Boris and he looks down at the mug in his hands and he feels it bubble up in his throat.

“Oh... I love you.”

And he knows he loves Boris but this is different. It feels like he’s known this for longer than he’s been alive, like he’s supposed to have been loving Boris since the moon was in the sky. He looks up. Boris is smiling at him and Theo feels himself smiling in return.

“Took me long enough, huh?”

“Took us long enough, my love.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Theo wakes up the next day before Boris and watches him sleep and he knows he will still panic and wake up gasping for air and feeling like he needs to run and he’ll have days where he wants nothing more than to drown but at least if he needs to lean on something maybe it can be the words love and understanding. 

Theo thinks Boris might have spent his whole life showing Theo how he is both.


End file.
